Courtship
by Jokerfest
Summary: Pre-Movie. Heimdall is fascinated by a mortal dancer. He is granted a rare opportunity by Thor to go to Earth and court the woman.  He has seven days... Rated M for lemony goodness, language and whatever naughtyness ensues. Heimdall/OC
1. Prologue

He could see tiny beads of sweat gather on her forehead, could see her pant, but the shape of a smile, breaking through every tired feature. Her dark brown eyes glinted with something that could only be described as joy in success. She was a beautiful woman, black hair pulled into a loose ponytail, which swayed behind generous hips that Heimdall had found himself guilty of watching a little _too _closely. She grabbed a towel from the bar, that lined the dance studio. She dabbed her face, and fanned herself with the towel. Heimdall found himself drawn to the line of her neck, her throat as she swallowed, her lips parted in genuine satisfaction.

The Guardian of Asgard, closed his eyes.

He knew that she was blind in her sensuality, that she went through her day believing that she was little more than in the way of everyone. She wore large sweaters and cargo pants that hid every lovely stroke of leg he'd come to admire. To add insult to injury the woman wore large black rimmed glasses. In the outside world, this proud and passionate beauty was hidden beneath what seemed to be limitless amounts of fabric and doubt. That only gave way when she danced as she did now. He wondered how someone who had such confidence in her body, who moved and ebbed with music as if it ran through her rather then blood, he wondered how a woman such as she, could move through life little more than a ghost.

She owned a small business, a used bookstore that she'd inherited from her late mother. Her and her roommate slash fraternal twin sister lived on the upper floor of the shop. The twin, looked very similar to her sister but she held no sway over Heimdall. So afraid was he of this mortal that he did not allow himself to listen to her, lest her voice do what the rest of her seemed to want to do; bring him to her. If he heard her voice he would be hers completely.

He'd watched her for just shy of six years, wishing he'd known of her sooner. He knew that this genuine meekness in the wake of life, was not natural. It was something that she wore, another layer atop her. There were times when she spoke to her sister, when sometimes she would be walking along the sidewalk, even when she'd just woken, she'd have a sweet innocent smile that Creator help him he wanted to brush his lips against, he wanted sweet kisses from that smile.

Heimdall shook himself, closing his eyes one more time. He took a heavy breath and opened them. It would not do to watch the woman for he would never have her. He would never know anything beyond what he saw and he was certain that he could watch forever but nothing would satisfy save feeling her beneath his fingertips and _that _could never happen.

"Hullo there Heimdall!"

Heimdall stiffened hearing the voice of the first-born prince Thor Odinsson. The man was larger than he, and a very imposing figure. However the disarming smile on his face, made him look like a jovial boy rather than a hardened warrior. Heimdall turned and gave a stiff nod to the prince.

"Hello Thor Odinsson, to what do I owe this visit?"

"I am going on a little trip to Vanaheim my friend. There is a lovely maiden that sent an invitation I could not refuse,"the smiling bear of a man joked. If Heimdall were less disciplined he would have smirked at the young man. He remembered when he been so cocky and foolhardy. With a sudden pang Heimdall imagined his young charge one day being king, that carefree brow, lined with the worries of a ruler. In that moment he wished that his friend would remain this age forever.

"Ah, well be careful you've offended Njord more than once by bedding one of his mistresses own. I pray that this time you travel with more sense?"

"Yes, yes, she is not royalty, not some maiden of some mighty lord, I promise."

Heimdall nodded satisfied with the answer and activated the Bifrost, a massive bridge created of rare lightning crystal, forged with rainbow's light and blessed by Odin himself. The large circle, a lovingly crafted machine that Heimdall himself had seen created, spun at the speed faster than light, forcing sharp snaps of lightning to spark outward. The bridge began to flash its colorful hues.

"Before I go, though. I wonder...what in Midgard could hold the attention of the Guardian of the Nine Worlds that distracts him from his duties and the needs of his prince?"

Heimdall said nothing and extended a gesturing hand towards the now fully activated bridge.

"Your maiden awaits my lord. Call and I shall return you at once."

The young man chuckled and clapped the man on the back. "Perhaps when I return you can take leave. Loki's magic has always managed to alert of nearing danger. A few days on the mortal world would do no harm, besides time passes differently in Midgard."

Thor waited for an answer and then realizing that he would receive none, gave a slight decline of his head and headed off on his steed.

Heimdall's mind was anything but calm. Had Thor been serious? He could see his siren in real, touch her, hear the sound of her voice? It would only be for a few days, just enough to destory him utterly but he knew that he would take this opportunity regardless.


	2. Watchman's Wish

**Ahh so I definitely forgot my disclaimer. Here it is. I don't own any of Marvel characters of Norse origin or otherwise. I'm just the writer. Anyway, I hope that you enjoy it and leave a review if you'd like.**

"How many years have I known you Heimdall," Odin asked gently as he walked around his library.

"Countless years, my King."

"But you count them,"Odin stated. Heimdall said nothing, merely watched as the older god paced. The way the king moved reminded Heimdall of the great lions he'd seen in Midgard.

"I serve as I am allowed."

"What draws you to Midgard, old friend?"

Heimdall was all-seeing and all-hearing but Odin's wisdom was sometimes depthless. The one-eyed king stood still resting his hands on the back of a chair. Heimdall sighed and removed his helm. His hair was kept short and he passed his hair over his head, trying to make sense of his current predicament. It was simple, really. The Guardian of the Nine Realms had _never_ taken a day off and the fact that he had asked was unprecedented. The only time that he was given leave was if he was grievously injured and that hadn't happened in centuries.

"It is...a woman,"he said facing the king, directly. He tried to show with his eyes that he wasn't sure how his love had transpired. It would not have been a lie, either. There were plenty of dancers, plenty of beautiful women and yet this one held him. He could not help but glance at her corner of the world to see how she was.

"I know that look. I also know that that look is an affliction with only one cure."

"Cure?"

"You must go to her. If the fates are kind then she could very well be your bride."

"If it does not?"

"Then you will watch her until the day she dies. My friend, I offer you seven Earth days to try and...woo this woman. I will also offer you some tools that will aid you, it is not every day that a god stands before a mortal; I should know. It is also not every day that one falls in love, though I do know what you're thinking."

"What am I thinking?"

"You are wondering if this woman is going to be your undoing. Yet, despite the potential danger of going to her, you go anyway. It is as if she summons you," Odin chuckled. Heimdall could see a much younger king in that laugh and he smiled in spite of himself.

"It is how I met my Frigga."

As Heimdall rode on the familiar hued bridge, his tools tucked away safely in a pouch at his side, he considered the sheer madness of what he was doing. He had seven days to convince a woman he'd never met to be his bride. In this short time he would have to tell her that he was also an immortal being that lived on another world. If that went smoothly still and she agreed, where would she fit in his life when he was honor bound to watch the Nine Realms?

When he reached the chamber that the Bifrost was activated, Heimdall slowed his steed. There was so much doubt in Heimdall's mind. There was so much that could possibly go wrong. He considered his gifts and all that he knew of the woman he was seeking.

"Obstacles do not matter, not if I love her." Heimdall let out a heavy breath and went to activate the Bifrost. Made of lightning stone, imbued with pure light and blessed by Odin, this bridge had been his charge for eons long past. It sparked in sharp white bursts and the familiar scent of ozone was in the air. Heimdall glanced around the familiar chamber once more before nodding.

At least now he had a chance to win his woman's heart whereas before she'd been worlds away.


	3. Polite Society

**Alright guys! Sorry for taking so long. You have no idea how many times I've reworked this chapter. It was quite a task let me tell you but finally-FINALLY- I have gotten everything to something I can actually admire. It's also a bit more lengthy sort of an apology for taking forever. I'm a chronic procrastinator with a big heart and bad grammar, you'll have to forgive me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and leave reviews! **

**Jokerfest**

Attica knew that she was crazy. It was something she'd come to accept along with coleslaw, internet ads and the existence of mosquitoes. Her sister was eating a bowl of cereal, pointedly not making any comments about her insane state of dress. She huffed and her sister glanced up and made a face.

"You're...dressed."

"I'm gonna try and see if I can go, y'know...actually dance under the light of day for once."

"Addie-"

"At least I'm trying right?"

"But Addie-you're _not _trying. You're pretending to try so you won't feel s'bad about dancing at night. And I know you don't appreciate me saying anything-you never do- but it's not healthy kid."

"Well, I don't-I mean-," Attica sighed and chewed on her lip. "I don't know what I mean. I just, I _want_ to want this again. I walk down there to see if the feeling is back, if it's still as awful as it's been since-"

"And that's why I'm not saying anything. I know that it'll take a lot more t' fix the problem but I can deal so long as you do. So go on, break a leg, that whole thing."

"That's for theater," Attica said adjusting her dance bag on her shoulder. Velveth snorted and gestured her spoon towards Attica's affronted expression.

"Perfect. I've never seen anyone more dramatic than you."

They stuck their tongues out at one another before Attica opened the door to the apartment. She could almost believe that today she would step into the studio. She actually did miss the routine. Slipping out of sweats into tights, stretching and talking with the other girls in the dressing room. She missed the sound of her favorite instructor's voice, Maggie. She remembered the day that Maggie had given her the key. She'd hugged the woman, thanking her profusely for the extra time to practice her dancing. It was also a show of faith, Attica knew, a gesture that showed that Maggie really did have faith in her.

Before _Brian_ ruined everything, before he ruined _her_. She grit her teeth together forcing the memories as far away from her mind as she could. Attica thought of the necessity of taking on a second job. She knew that Velveth trusted her to make sure that they were square. Attica was the oldest by only a few minutes but that had put a subtle weight on her. It wasn't particularly difficult but when stressed, there was no one to really talk to. She'd applied all over the state, willing to take any train, bus or taxi necessary, to get there. So far nothing was turning up, save for the one position she still couldn't take. Someplace she hadn't danced in during the light of day in over five years. Attica pushed all of the thoughts away and jogged to the dance studio, dance bag slapping mockingly against her legs.

When she finally got to the studio, Attica was sweating. She felt sick and her skin felt like it was glued to her clothing in certain places. To add insult to injury there was a very good looking man watching every single moment of her insanity. He was smiling at her in a placating way that was so sweet she didn't have the heart to scowl at him. She just breathed deeply and nodded a small greeting. He nodded back and offered his hand.

"My name is Henry Frost. Call me Henry, if you please. No formalities." His warm hand held her own, callused but so very strong and alive. He let go and she let her hand fall back to her side.

His voice was like a heavy caress against her skin. The timbre of it did something to the bones that should have been holding her up. She was starting to fidget.

"Alright. Well...jeez, I'm Attica Hughes. Nice to meet you. Uh,...sorry for the,uh-whatever that was."

"You were troubled, it isn't so unnatural. I just hope that whatever bothers you will eventually resolve itself. Yet...that isn't why I wanted to talk to you."

"You wanted to talk to me," Attica managed to say without breathing hard. She squared up her shoulders and hugged her arms to herself. She was really hoping that the handsome man wasn't some kind of psycho.

"Yes, you see Maggie is a dear friend of mine. She had family matters that she had to attend to but wanted to leave her studio running in secure hands."

"And that's you."

He chuckled at her skepticism and despite her suspicion there was a pang of something else that had _no_ right to dance through her mind.

"Yes. She said that there was a beautiful woman that would wander around near the dance studio...like a pacing lioness."

'He has to be teasing me' she thought dumbly.

"Right-well, yeah, that's me, I guess. Look, I was just going to go ahead and head home-"

"Home? Didn't you just arrive? You are not going to dance?"

He sounded almost disheartened. She felt bad.

"Maybe we could...go out to eat instead? I know a great italian place just up the street. That is...if you want to go with me?"

The look in his hazel eyes was that of a barely masked predator. Under that look Attica was made aware of how female she was and how very _male_ he was. She didn't half mind the look she thought surprisingly, actually feeling a little flattered. If this were a different time period she'd be flicking a fan in his direction, a powdered wig atop her head, a coy smirk upon red lips. Despite all the things that had happened to her she was still a romantic.

"Of course I would like to go. Lead the way," and muscled arm curled around her own. He wore a perfectly tailored grey suit and an ocean-colored tie. A white shirt. But all of it was worn almost carelessly, tie askew, shirt unbuttoned, the jacket as well. He looked amazing anyway or maybe that just enhanced how freaking out of the ordinarily hot he looked.

She smiled, more happily than she had in a few weeks. This had to be a bad idea, she knew but as they walked together she couldn't help but not care.


End file.
